No Nutritional Value
by Iruka-chan2
Summary: Tezuka x OC. Tezuka and M.J. Kennedy’s first close encounter, which takes place in front of a vending machine.


Pairing/Summary: (Tezuka x OC) Tezuka and M.J. Kennedy's first close encounter, which takes place in front of a vending machine.

Disclaimer: I make no claims to anything, especially ownership of any characters or royalties from the franchise that is Prince of Tennis.

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When Tezuka first came to the United States, he had to acclimate to a number of societal differences; for instance: the greater value placed on individualism rather than conformance to a group, the informality in all levels of dynamics between people, the absence of centuries-old traditions incorporated into everyday life.

Some cultural aspects he could learn to live with, although he might not fully embrace them himself. In fact, the diversity unique to America made it easier for Tezuka to be accepted as he was, despite his adherence to his own culture's traditions (such as asking others to call him by his surname instead of his given name). Ironically, Tezuka based his decision on a need to hold onto his sense of self, the very concept nurtured by his new country.

Yet of all the differences, from intangible philosophies to the tangible environment he lived in, the most difficult for him to stomach was the prevalence of junk food.

Perhaps this was because he was first exposed to it as a college student—limited in cooking capabilities, and the target demographic for restaurants with quick service, late hours, and delivery options. It did not help that hamburgers or pizza appeared on a daily basis in the cafeteria, too, and always looked more appetizing than the other offerings.

He did wonder if Echizen had been a bit stunted in his growth, eating such stuff before he arrived at Seigaku.

So Tezuka decided he would make changes. Not to revolutionize the entire society at once, but at least have the vending machines that littered the campus stocked with a few non-processed and non-fattening items. From there, he could move forward.

To his dismay, his request was instantly refused on the basis that it had been tried before and had failed according to the laws of supply and demand. No matter how stridently the various "wellness" groups campaigned, the vending machine companies still lost money replacing Ruffles with raisins or the like. Principles and good causes alone did not keep one in business in this capitalist society, he was reminded.

Tezuka did not give up, of course. He joined those wellness groups and came up with ideas such as providing free healthier snacks during study sessions to demonstrate that they produced better results than junk food, and enlisting the pre-med students to do nutritional comparisons over longer periods of time. Personally, he went to great lengths to patronize stores and restaurants that carried organic and higher quality foods…when he could find them.

Although Tezuka was a determined man if nothing else, ultimately, it was a losing battle over the years of his graduate through doctoral work and extending into the time he joined the faculty as a history professor. Nothing had succeeded, short-term or long-term.

One evening he stood in front of a vending machine in a remote part of the library, frustrated that he was ravenous and the evidence of his failure mocked him with its lack of suitable choices. A female voice interrupted his thoughts with a concerned, "Did it steal your change? I have some extra, if you need it."

Tezuka rubbed at his face as if wiping the aggravation from it, then turned to the speaker. He recognized her, though he did not remember her name—she was on the library staff and always seemed to know where the books he wanted were located without having to look them up. "Thank you, but no—I have not yet put money into it," he answered her calmly enough, but wished that he had not been caught in such an unguarded moment.

She stepped closer and peered with interest through the glass. "Then why were you glaring at it so fiercely?"

"I abhor Twinkies," he said, it being the first thought that came to mind, and winced internally. Everybody he knew loved Twinkies and described them as light and sweet—perfectly innocent of offense and certainly not worth scowling over.

Yet she did not laugh at him, make a sarcastic comment, or leave hastily; she merely met his eyes in the dim reflection and raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain his vehement word choice.

Hence, the predicament became: could he explain the truth of the matter without coming off as too pompous or critical? Well, he could try. "They have come to represent…a societal problem that I have had difficulty fighting against."

"Societal problem?"

"The prevalence of junk food, especially when there are no alternatives, such as in vending machines."

"Ah…" she said, and paused. He felt himself stiffen inwardly, having had plenty of practice at stoically enduring teasing on this subject alone, never mind in general.

Again she surprised him; she must have been looking over the selection again, because she added, "You're right. No nutritional value among the lot. And while an occasional indulgence can be good, seeing only these types of items does lead you to forget that there are other things out there that are better. A downward spiral."

Tezuka did not have a reply ready.

She sighed and continued, "Funny. Yesterday, I was in the bookstore thinking about this—how there seems to be more space devoted to bestsellers and less immediate availability of the classics. If the publishers continue this trend, before long we could end up with nothing but crowd-pleasing fluff to buy, just like in vending machines."

Not only had she taken him seriously, but she also shared his concern over the same problem in an area equally close to his heart? Immeasurably pleased, he asked her, "Do you have thoughts on what can be done?"

"Not really, unfortunately. I don't even have any good suggestions on what to do in _this _situation. Do we boycott? Or do we make the most of the choices we have?"

"It is a difficult choice, indeed, even when not mentally diminished by hunger," he agreed.

She had turned to face him as he spoke, so it was impossible to overlook the fact that she opened her mouth to say something—drew in a breath in preparation, even—but closed it hastily.

"What?" he asked, intrigued.

After coughing once into her raised fist and averting her eyes, she muttered, "Nothing. I was about to make a very stupid joke."

He felt one side of his mouth lift slightly in amusement. "Did it include an allusion to the infamous 'Twinkie defense,' perhaps?"

Her eyes actually widened and her voice sounded different as she said, "Yes. It did." Then she smiled back.

She had a nice smile, Tezuka noted, and he appreciated it more so because people rarely smiled with him instead of at him these days. However, an audible growl from his stomach distracted him from admiring its effect further; her smile faded, and she tilted her head inquiringly. "So… what are you going to do?" she asked.

He pressed his lips together to suppress a grimace, then answered, "Go without, of course. And you?"

Crossing her arms, she turned to face the vending machine again. "Hmm. While I'm all for sticking to your guns, especially when under fire, I think a compromise is in order. Do you like chocolate?"

"I do, but—"

"No 'buts.' I'll split something with you. The company will only get one person's money, not two, so they'll still lose out somewhat. And I shall choose an item I want them to continue to carry." She nodded once to herself and began feeding coins into the slot.

He had mixed feelings about her offer: he would certainly welcome a temporary alleviation from the pangs in his abdomen; on the other hand, he did not want her pity when it had been his choice. As he opened his mouth to politely decline, though, she broke the candy bar she had retrieved and handed him exactly half.

"Don't let anyone catch you eating it in the stacks," she said. A glint from the corner of her glasses evoked a distant memory of Inui handing out one of his horrid juice concoctions, and then she headed off down a fluorescently-lit corridor.

The plain dark chocolate was just sweet enough to be satisfying.

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A/N: In case you needed to get your bearings in Iruka-chan2's "Tezuka Zone," this is set a little less than 3 years prior to Prince & Prejudice. 


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